My Journal
by Magick
Summary: an entry out of Ken's journal during a hard time. a really sad, strange fic


Disclaimer- I dont own digimon, or any of the characters  
  
this idea actually came from a dream I had, and yes, I know Im screwed in the head, I just hope you like it.  
  
----*----  
  
  
The room is usually cold. The blankets on the hard bed really don't do anything to alleviate the chill in the air. Winter is here again, my second one here, I think. Time really dosen't mean all that much to me anymore. Hikari still comes to visit me every week, but with her classes, it gets hard for anyone to come. I do my work by correspondance, or, I did, I'm finished it all now. Even my parents haven't been by in a while, they have a new baby that keeps them busy. A little girl, not a surprise after two boys, her name is Rei. Don't get my wrong, I do love my little sister, I only wish I could see her more. Most of the nurses here don't like the idea of an infant in the psychiatry ward, but that's not a surprise either.  
  
Nothing much bothers me here, I have books to occupy me, and some of the more sane patients take the time to speak with the fallen Ichijouji Ken. But, then again, nothing really makes up for the freedom I've lost, but it was for my own good they put me here, I think, but I'm not sure sometimes. The noises in the night don't wake me anymore, they did, for a long time, but two years kind of makes you immune to the monotonous screaming.  
  
Daisuke and I used to spend a lot of our time in my bedroom, in the basement of my house. The walls were black, and so was the bed, and the carpet.  
  
Daisuke liked black.  
  
I always reveled in the fact that he was MY friend, and nobody would take that from me. But, Fate is one cruel bitch, if you ask me, which you probably wouldn't. I don't give up easily, I never have, I think that's why I've managed to stay sane here so long, but every now and then I feel myself slipping.  
  
Now, sane in an asylum, you may ask? The answer is yes, I am sane, for the most part. They have me on Zoloft, and some other drugs, and slowly I'm beginning to feel better. All of the other digidestined thought something was truly wrong, when I never cried at the funeral. It's so silly really, I never cried because I couldn't. You have to have a heart to feel pain, and I just didn't, I lost it when he died, because he had my heart.  
  
But were were young, and I'll never forget. The chance was worth it, small as it was. Chaste kisses and the occasional tight embrace, but never where people would see. No, even now, nobody else knows, it was our secret, and I will take it to the grave with me, just see if I don't.  
  
Time passes strangely here, sometimes the days seems like minutes, and sometimes the minutes seem like days, depending on the drugs they've slipped into my food. Yes, I know they do, but they don't know I know. I wait in anticipation for Hikari's visit, sometime today, I believe, according to the calender.  
...............  
Hikari set down the battered journal and sighed, hugging it close to her chest. Nobody ha every known, all save her, he had told her where to find the journal only moments before he left this Earth to find Daisuke.   
................  
Dear Journal,  
today Ken was burried. He'd been out of the hospital for nearly a month, but I guess it was all too much for him. I really thought he'd get better after he finally broke down and cried, even the security guard looks about to cry at the sight. It was ironic, we all though that Dai-san was the strong one, but after he died, Ken just kept on fighting. I think that's why Ken was the strongest of them both. I saw his parents, and his little sister at the funeral, she looks so much like him, I know she'll break some hearts when she's older. It's just too bad that nobody ever knew that Ken's genius never lived in his mind, but in his soul, and his brave heart. TK was great throughout the whole thing, always so supportive, even when I wanted to just curl up into a little ball and cry, but that's a good thing. Ken once told me that I was the only one who ever came to visit him often, I think that's so sad. But I really should go now Journal, it's been a long day.  
Hikari Kamiya, age 16  
  
  
  
  



End file.
